From Now On
by Sean Montgomery
Summary: Part 6 of 7. A simple look into the lives of the Man of Steel and the Daily Planet's star reporter after their marriage.
1. Lois

Disclaimers: I don't own Superman or its characters or anything related to it. I just own a bunch of fannish merchandise that you can get anywhere else. So don't sue.

Notes: This is to reassure you all that I am, in fact, NOT dead and still writing. Underground will be updated soon, but for now I offer you this. And I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

* * *

Every now and then, before the sunlight had filtered in through their windows and roused his sleeping form, his body trained to rise when the sun did, she would watch him sleep.

Of course, being married to one who was able to detect changes in breathing and heart rates made this especially difficult. Lois only recently discovered that her silent musings were only possible when he came to bed after a particularly tiring evening. His nightly rounds of checking on the people of Earth would never cease, and sometimes he came back earlier than anticipated, giving them few precious hours alone to be themselves. Perhaps at some point she would hate that he would come to their bed too exhausted to do anything other than collapse and sleep, but for now… she watched.

And discovered, with mute fascination, that he slept like Jason. On his stomach, face buried into a pillow, one arm snaked under the pillow while the other was bent under his form. His eyebrows were knitted firmly on his forehead, as though, even while sleeping, he was trying to drown out the noise she couldn't hear. Every now and then, the corner of his mouth would twitch.

Shifting from her reclining position next to him, Lois craned her head to look over her shoulder at the digital read-out from her alarm clock. It would go off in five minutes. Shifting carefully a little more, she reached out and slowly moved the switch until the alarm was shut off. Undoubtedly he heard the gears shifting inside the clock itself, but he made no movement to indicate it.

Cuddling a bit closer to his bare back, she reached out a hand and let it drift over his side; faint, light touches meant to gently wake him. She lowered her face and brought her lips near his hair. "Clark?" she whispered.

A deep sigh, but no other answer.

Moving a bit closer, shifting her foot between his ankles and clothed calves, she leaned on him a bit, hooking her arm around his shoulder and dropping gentle kisses on his back. "Clark," she said a bit firmer.

A groan, muted by his pillow.

She rolled her eyes. _Yup. He sleeps _exactly_ like Jason…_"Clark," she said insistently, "It's time to get up."

If possible, his brows knit tighter.

"I know you had a rough night," she said, bringing her lips to his ear and soothingly running the backs of her fingers down his arm. "But Perry would think it's a little strange that one of his star reporters didn't make it to work on time. Especially if he's married to the other, _bigger_ star in the office. And you _know_ what the office will say." Taking a deep breath, momentarily getting lost in the scent of his hair, she angled her face and nuzzled his neck. "C'mon, sleepyhead – wake up."

He shifted his face out of the pillow. "Just gimme five more minutes…"

All affection and tender amusement she had at the similarities between father and son were gone instantly. Sitting up, she firmly grasped the edge of his pillow and yanked it out from under his head. "What are you, twelve years old?" Feeling a bit of satisfaction at his surprised yelp followed by his head thumping against the mattress, she hoisted the pillow over her head and hit him with it. "Get _up_, Clark!"

Of course, she didn't expect the blow to faze him one bit. He merely blinked at her, obviously surprised but amused nonetheless. After a moment, he gave her a smug grin. "What?" he croaked. "No good morning kiss?"

She promptly hit him again.

* * *

Despite the way some of their mornings usually began, Lois could easily say that waking him up, when she got the chance, was one of her favorite pastimes. She certainly couldn't have the same enthusiasm about their breakfast – while she preferred a power bar on the go, Clark would sometimes wake up early just to make a traditionally Midwestern breakfast; which, for Lois, meant a heaping of carbs and wasted time she could have used getting the better angle on a story. Clark never seemed to let her go on an empty stomach. On any morning where she wouldn't eat with them, he'd arrive at the office with her favorite coffee and a muffin, trying desperately to balance the two and walk at the same time.

Always looking out for them, making sure they were taken care of before he'd even start his day. After feeling a flood of affection for him when he dropped off the coffee and muffin while kissing her on the head (and not spilling a single drop), Lois snuck a glance at him while he made his way to his desk. He carefully took off his blazer and draped it on the back of his chair, straightening his sweater before sitting down. Then he adjusted everything on his desk – pencils, paper, the computer monitor, the keypad – before letting his hands and gaze linger on the photo of Lois and Jason that he had taken one day at the park. Her breath momentarily left her at the look of complete adoration in his eyes, the way their intense blue softened to a look that was reserved only for his family.

Jason was considered, of course, his miracle. The life he was never supposed to have was suddenly in his hands, and the impossible dream – a child of his own, proof that he was no longer alone in the world – was a reality. During their engagement, Lois could remember asking him if he wanted to see any baby photos of Jason, knowing that he would barely be able to contain his excitement; seeing his son grow was something he had missed, and she made it her mission to try to fill in the blanks for him wherever possible. His eyes feasted on photo album after photo album, begging to know every story behind the smiles, the tears, and the surprised looks. It wasn't until she was explaining a story about how Jason was so wobbly taking his first steps that she remembered a video had been made, by Richard, of the historical event in their son's life. He almost seemed nervous when she pulled out the ancient VHS and popped it into the equally ancient VCR, but all of it melted away almost instantly as Jason's chubby face filled the TV screen. The shot pulled back to reveal Lois squatting nearby, flexing her fingers and prompting Jason to walk toward her.

"That's when I was still trying to lose the baby weight," she had whispered, making a face at the added pounds her TV figure showed off. She had expected a retort of some kind. His prolonged silence made her look at him.

He hadn't worn his glasses to dinner that evening, but the flannel he wore instead made him look like Clark, while his posture and attitude were that of Kal-El. It was odd, seeing a perfect blend of the two all evening, but she couldn't believe how complete the picture was before her. Clark was completely motionless, was barely breathing as he stared at his son's face. A smile would occasionally break the hypnotic gaze spell he had cast over her, but the utter depth of his love remained in his eyes. As the image of their son taking his first steps filled the screen, Richard and Lois' voices shattering the otherwise intense silence, a single tear drifted down Clark's cheek. Overcome, Lois reached over and took his hand, stabilizing him, letting him know that she was there, that all was forgiven and this next step was new to both of them in their own way. He had taken home the tape that night.

Her thoughts interrupted by his eyes glancing up at her, the minor thought that she had never seen that video again drifted away when he blinked and adjusted his glasses, giving her a full-blown grin before waving. She waved back and turned back to her screen.

"You were reminiscing, I see," she whispered. "I love watching you reminisce. It's like reading a book."

She made another look over her shoulder at him. He didn't look back, but the telltale smile told her everything she needed to know.

* * *

Simple moments, she had to admit, were hard to come by. She hadn't gotten used to the idea of being the one who could take care of Jason the most, but with Clark's duty to the world, how could they do otherwise? It reminded her of the brief time when she was the only one to care for her infant son – lonely, but this time without the uncertainty. She knew that Clark would be there in a heartbeat if he wanted to. That didn't mean that there wasn't the occasional strain, the brief moments were both were too tired from the day – her chasing a story and him chasing robbers or a collapsing building – to do anything other than sit and watch Jason do homework.

But those were the moments that made a relationship, weren't they? It wasn't always about the dates or stolen glances or kisses or private moments. Smaller things made up the core of the relationship. They just happened to be one of the couples that missed out on it.

_God, that sounds so shallow,_ Lois thought with a grimace, stirring a pan of beef bubbling on the stove. _In the long run, that's really what it comes down to. Unlike most people, at least we're making the effort to fix that. A few things got in the way, but…_

With a small grin, she looked out of the corner of her eye and noticed Clark leaning against the kitchen counter, occasionally popping baby carrots into his mouth. He was staring straight at her, but when she turned to look at him, he went back to his duty of gathering veggie snacks for Jason.

"What?" she asked, grinning wider when he feigned ignorance.

"Nothing. I was just… thinking."

"About?"

He shrugged, dismissing the subject. She raised an eyebrow at him and went back to stirring the meat, only to find him, moments later, staring at her again. She dropped the handle of the wooden spoon and turned to him. "Look, if you don't think I'm doing this right, don't just stand there and stare at me!"

His eyebrows shot into his hairline, the action not as intense without his glasses. "What? What are you talking about?"

"You've been staring at me since I started cooking the beef."

He glanced into the pan. "You mean burning it?"

Grabbing the spoon, she quickly stirred the contents. "It's not burning."

"It's going to in a minute."

Lois firmly tapped the spoon on the pan before dropping it on the stove. "Will you stop it? You're getting me off the topic. If you're not watching me cook, why are you staring at me? What's on your mind?"

"Nothing! I'm…" His words died as he fumbled for something to say. Eventually, he turned back to the vegetables, a small blush staining his cheeks.

She stared at him a moment, her brows knit together, trying to piece out whatever puzzle he had thrown at her… when suddenly it hit her. "It's habit, isn't it?"

"What is?" he asked, not looking at her.

"You staring at me. You always looked away when I looked back. It's a habit from the office."

His blush deepened. _Bingo._

"You aren't used to just… _looking_ yet?"

He shrugged. "Like you said – habit."

Her gaze softened, a smile slowly creeping across her face. "Yeah, I suppose it'll have to stay a habit at the office. At least for a little while. But at home? As far as I'm concerned, when we're at home, I'm yours."

He completely froze. No hesitancy, no blinking when he turned his head to openly stare at her. Locking eyes, he stood straight and leaned against the counter behind him, returning her full-blown smile with a sly grin of his own. She merely turned and continued to stir the meat, stabbing the wooden spoon through the larger chunks that hadn't completely cooked yet. Her grin returned when she noticed he was still staring at her openly, and when she looked at him again, he had a particular gleam in his eye. He turned and piled the veggies on a small plate, but before he left the kitchen, he dropped a kiss on the back of her head, immediately calling out to Jason that dinner would be ready soon.

_I'm all yours, hero. You shouldn't need me to tell you that anymore._

* * *

And, after that night, she didn't need to. It had taken time and effort on both of their parts, but Clark eventually got used to the idea that the reality wasn't a dream in disguise; that she wasn't going to shoo him off or wonder what he was doing. More often than not, she encouraged him to do the little things, eventually promising him many good things if he would get in the habit of openly admiring her. He took to it quickly. Whether or not it had anything to do with her demands, she wasn't sure, but she liked to think that it did. Lois couldn't let him think he had complete control over her. Besides, her independence was one of the things he loved most about her, right?

But there were the nights where he would rise from the bed as silently as he could, don the suit, and kiss her goodbye before zipping out the window to save the world. Lois would lie there, reveling in the warmth he left behind in the sheets, trying to tell herself that those who needed a savior deserved to know the thrill of being rescued by him for the first time, just like she remembered all too well. It never took her long to realize the thought was total baloney. Love might have been patient and kind, but those two words never fit easily with her personality.

_When it came to him, anyway. After I had Jason, I didn't have a choice. Not that it was a hard choice to make…_

But she knew this was going to be their fate. Choosing a life with Superman – the hero and the man behind closed doors – was never going to be easy. He would spend nights away, sometimes all night, and miss recitals or whatever else Jason decided he was going to participate in. Life sometimes seemed easier if they weren't a couple.

_And we'd be incomplete. We both would be pining for each other, eventually falling into the same mess we did before. People can only hold the act for so long before actions need to take place. We didn't have a choice. Clark is the only man who knows how to handle Jason growing up. And Clark's the only man I'd ever consider spending my life with._

Tough as it seemed, Lois knew that Clark, wherever he was, felt the same way. She knew he hated leaving all the time, or doing his best to be a parent while knowing he was going to miss some important events in his sons life. She had to remind him that was what video cameras were for. _And his hearing. I know he listens to us wherever he goes. He told me the other night that Jason talks in his sleep. But I deny his suspicions of my snoring. No way._

As much as it was tough, Lois made sure that she held no terrible feelings in her heart. Partners were always supposed to have hard times, but the hard times were what made everything worthwhile. It was hard enough to keep the weight of the world off his shoulders, but she could let the home be his haven, a welcome respite from the maniacs and criminals that littered the streets. She made it her personal mission to make sure his time at home was as wonderful as it could be, be it some time outside with Jason, or cuddling on the couch. As much as she cherished time spent between father and son, she had to admit there was a soft spot for the cuddling - and the other activities they indulged in. Lovemaking with Clark, past and present, had always left Lois at a loss for words.

Then again, it also did Clark.

* * *

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	2. Clark

He knew that, most of the time, his abilities really weren't fair when it came to the basics of marriage.

If he wanted to leave the bed without disturbing her, he could simply float - slowly and gently, if she happened to be lying on his side – so that the bed wouldn't spring back as quickly. If he were watching her, he could monitor her heartbeat so that he could know when she was about to wake (it was times like those where he would love to pretend to sleep so that _she_ could watch _him_, but he knew she would kill him if she ever found that out, so he eventually stopped doing it). He could tell when she was frustrated, happy, and calm… all by the speed of her heartbeat. Seeing where she was required X-Ray vision, and she would sometimes sit and stare at the room he was in and give a hesitant wave. He, of course, loved to keep this a secret as well, enjoying her instinct of "I felt like I was being watched." She would say this with a small grin, knowing exactly why she felt the way she did, and he loved that she gained that instinct.

There were moments, though, where he could use his abilities to an almost-human advantage. Lying next to Lois, feeling the warmth of her small frame pressed against him, he would simply sit and stare while he focused his hearing until the world around him was as quiet as he could make it, until the only thing that existed were the muffled outside sounds and her quiet breathing. He wondered if this was how she felt in the moments when she would watch him sleep, feeling this content and overwhelmed with love for one other person. With his arm used as a pillow, the strands of her hair would tickle his sensitive skin, but the slightly irritating sensation was minimal when seeing the content smile on her face. His other arm shifted across her belly to bring her even closer. Seeing her in this moment, clothed only in moonlight and ardent kisses, made him wonder how he lived a moment without her.

_But that's the point of love. Discovering your better half, and igniting the desire to keep the other as safe and protected as possible, not because it's expected of you, but because you _want_ to._

Of course, he knew the term "better half" was usually used to describe ones soul mate, but how could he subject that to a singular person when he felt the same about his son?

Experimentation was Clark's favorite activity with Jason in their time together. While Lois and Richard had been careful with what their boy could and could not eat (and understandably so), Clark felt he could at least give the boy a chance to develop his taste buds and hope that he would eventually grow out of it. After all, Martha and Jonathan had done the same for him, and who better to determine how Jason's body was reacting over new foods than his own father? It was one of the few times when X-Ray vision could be used domestically.

So when Jason had revealed one morning that he had never had a "good Midwestern breakfast" – a meal that usually consisted of homemade pancakes made from scratch and sausage with eggs – Clark decided that he would treat his son to something good and homemade that you couldn't find in the local dairy cooler. "But let's start with something smaller," he said, setting Jason on the counter and grinning when he son started kicking his legs back and forth. "Have you had French Toast?"

Jason's hair, sticking up in every direction on one side, matted to his head on the other, bobbed when he shook his head.

Clark paused with a hand on the refrigerator door. "What did you eat before school?"

"Mommy always made cereal. Or something from a box." He pointed at the freezer door. Clark opened it to reveal boxes full of Jason's special foods, including heat-and-eat bags of his macrobiotic milkshakes.

"Oh." Clark stared for a moment at the frozen contents. "What about Saturday mornings? What'd you eat then?"

"Lotsa fruit and green stuff."

Clark raised an eyebrow, a small smile forming on his mouth. "Jason, does mommy or Richard know how to cook?"

"Daddy cooked all the time. Mommy used the microwave a _lot_."

Clark stuck his head in the refrigerator door, hiding his full-blown smile at the answer he knew was coming. "Yeah, mommy likes the microwave." He pulled out a loaf of bread. "Well, no more, little guy! If you grow up to be anything like me – and those chances seem kinda high – you'll be waking up earlier than mommy, so we can have breakfast together. How does that sound?"

"Good!" Jason bounced on his spot on the counter, then eyed the bread Clark set beside him. "I can't eat bread."

"So you think," his father answered, unwrapping the twist-tie and pulled out a piece. "But if I was able to at your age, you should be able to as well."

He held out the piece for Jason to take. His son stared at the bread, uncertain whether to take it.

"Just trust me, Jason. I had the exact same problem, too. But you won't know if you can really eat it unless you try."

Hesitantly, Jason took the bread and nibbled a small corner off the crust. Clark quickly used his X-Ray vision and monitored Jason's physical reaction as the bread was chewed, swallowed, and digested. He continually raised his eyes from Jason's esophagus to his mouth, waiting to see signs of swelling and intense blood flow. When several moments passed and nothing happened, he grinned. "Can you try a bigger piece?"

Jason took another bite. Again, Clark scanned his mouth and esophagus and saw no signs of… anything. Everything went perfectly as Jason's mouth stretched into a smile.

"Well," said Clark, breaking his focus and staring at Jason's grinning face. "What do you think of bread?"

"Can I have another one?"

"You can have one more – but it'll be your French Toast piece. We're gonna want to save this for your lunches now that you can eat it. Once we get through this, remind me to have you try bologna sandwiches." Clark went back to the refrigerator for the milk, pausing before he opened the door. "But you can't have milk, right? Is that another thing we'll have to try?" His small, excited smile melted when he saw only soymilk sitting in the corner of the fridge. "Soymilk it is," he muttered, wondering how it would affect the taste of the overall breakfast. When he reached for a couple of eggs, he stopped again. "Can you have eggs?"

Jason pointed to the door. In a green and brown container was a half-used half-dozen carton of eggs. Taking the final three, he set them next to the bread on the counter. "Are you sure you've never had French Toast before?"

"Daddy made pancakes."

"So you like pancakes?"

"Mm-hmm!" Jason bounced again.

"We'll have pancakes sometime, then. But let's try French Toast and see if you like them, okay?"

Making sure he told Jason every detail of preparing their breakfast, Clark took in Jason's excited bounces, they way he observed everything with rapt attention, how his feet continued to swing from the countertop. Every now and then, his fingers would play with the sleeve of his Aquaman pajamas. When the bread was battered with the eggs and milk and set to cook on a pan, the scent made the boy's stomach growl loudly. He was nearly leaping off the wall with excitement when Clark sat him at the table and gave him a plate with one steaming piece of bread lightly coated with syrup. When Clark sat beside him with his own plate of two steaming pieces, Jason waited patiently while Clark cut his bread into smaller pieces. As soon as he was finished, Jason stabbed a piece with his fork and stuck it in his mouth. Clark watched him for a moment, smiling when Jason's eyes grew wide. "This is really good!" he said, trying to chew at the same time.

"Good! I'm glad you like it." Clark cut up a piece for himself and ate it, watching Jason's face as he eagerly took another bite. After a moment, when the two were nearing the end of their meals, Clark took another drink of his milk, wishing he had gotten a bigger glass. "I will say this, though," he said, taking another bite and pausing when he tasted the soy before anything else. "I can't wait until you can drink regular milk."

Jason mimicked his father's movements. "Me neither."

* * *

He never imagined how difficult it would be to balance his family and the world. Both would require his attention no matter what, but his family… he hated missing out any more than he already had. Every now and then, he and Lois would have heated discussions, oftentimes arguments, about how they both needed to rely on each other to make their crazy lives work. In the end, as crazy as it sounded, he loved having those arguments; they reminded him of what he had, and what he had nearly lost. Fights about raising their child together were preferable to fights over custody. He also enjoyed the reminder of how fiercely Lois loved their child. She was such a strong woman to have raised Jason despite controversy in the office.

_It wore her out more than she'll ever admit,_ he thought one day, staring with a smile as she helped Jason with his homework, loving her running commentary about what they taught kids in school these days, _but it only made her stronger and better. More amazing and more passionate about the things she loves. I left a woman with a broken heart and returned to a strong mother whose passion was tenfold. _

Since their engagement and even into their marriage, Clark had made it his personal mission to make sure Lois felt as treasured and comforted as he could. Even if it meant leaving her alone when heated after a particular story didn't go her way, or providing some coffee when she spent all night locked up in the study, or afterward, when her knees and back would be sore from sitting all night and he would rub the aching muscles until her small whimpers subsided. There were afternoons when, on those rare days off that Perry insisted she take, he would come home for lunch and find her curled up in the bed, fully dressed, allowing some of the stress over the years to melt away in a simple nap. Once in a while he would leave her be, knowing this might be one of the few times she could get as much undisturbed rest as she could. Other times she would wake up, asleep but not so deeply that she didn't hear him come in, and acknowledge his presence. There were moments when he would simply slip a blanket over her curled frame, remembering how she hated to wake up cold from a nap. Other days, forgoing his hunger and too tempted to resist the idea of simply laying beside her, he would slip off his shoes and gently ease himself onto the bed, careful not to disturb her any more than he already had. Curling his body around her fetal-shaped one, he'd let his warmth, amplified by the sunlight, envelop her, easing her into a deeper sleep than before. To the best of his knowledge this act never bothered her – she would never mention it when he came home, but he did get the idea that she appreciated the act anyway, especially when she looked rejuvenated and energized.

He couldn't help it, really – he had a family, a son who lit up his world better than the sunlight, and a wife whose very life cast a spell on him greater than kryptonite. They both had the ability to make him smile in wonder, but the two of them together – in the car, at dinner, working on homework, at the office – were hypnotizing. This was _his family_, the one thing he never thought he'd be fortunate to have. Sure, his mom and dad were more than enough growing up, and his mom was still the strongest woman he'd ever known, but to finally experience what they had, to know what it was like to raise a family, somehow made it… complete.

Once when he was helping Jason with a reading assignment, the dictionary was flipped open randomly while Clark watched Jason carefully construct his handwriting so that it would be readable. He couldn't help it when his eyes drifted to the book instead of his son's worksheet – seeing it done for the fifth time was getting a little old – and when his eyes found the word on the book, he nearly laughed with irony. The word 'family' was open for him to read: _a person or people related to one and so to be treated with a special loyalty or intimacy. _

How very true, those words. Family were to be treated with a special loyalty, the comfort of knowing that their safest haven was with others they could trust beyond anything else in the world. How fortunate was he that the number had grown from one to three? Yes, they had their problems and complications, and he knew those would never end no matter how much he wanted the white picket fence and the dog running around the yard – being married to a city girl who loved her job and her hometown made him rethink his Midwestern dreams a little – he was much happier in a house just on the outskirts with a small yard and no dog. Besides, if home is where the heart is, the location didn't matter. Earth had been his home for years, but his true home, the one other than a farm in Smallville, Kansas, was cuddled beside him on the couch at the end of a long day, seated together at the dinner table, working together to get to a destination on time, heading to the movies on a weekend, even a ballgame in the summer (though one particular member never indulged in that particular tradition). Lois and Jason would still be around when he returned from rescuing kittens from trees or mine workers from fires. He'd always hate those personal moments where he had to leave, but they were always there.

Waiting for him.

Watching for him.

One evening the thought simply overwhelmed him after tucking Jason into bed. Sitting atop his comforter, listening to Lois hum off-key while getting ready for bed, he stared at his wedding photo hanging on a wall across from their bed. _His_wedding. To Lois Lane. He didn't know when she had stopped brushing her teeth or combing her hair, still damp after her shower, but he did hear her step out of their bathroom and stop suddenly. He must have looked lost, sitting there on their bed still wearing his suit and glasses from earlier that day, but he couldn't move if he wanted to. How did he become so fortunate to live his dream?

"Clark?"

He grinned softly when she said his name with a hint of worry. "I'm okay," he answered back.

"Are you sure? You look a little…"

"Lost?" he offered, his grin more visible.

"A little bit. Are you sure you're okay?"

He nearly sighed in satisfaction when she stood next to him, running a hand comfortingly through his hair. At last he broke his gaze with the photo and turned his head to nuzzle his face against her side. "I'm just very… content."

He could hear the sly smile in her voice. "Content, huh? After this morning?"

_Saw that answer coming a mile away… _"Not for the reason you'd think."

He glanced up at her and saw her raised eyebrow. Grinning, he affectionately kissed her clothed hip. "I'll tell you later."

She seemed satisfied with the answer for now. Walking away from him, she pulled back the covers on her side. "You're a walking, talking mystery to me, Clark Kent."

"Speak for yourself," he tossed over his shoulder, twisting his fingers through the knot of his tie. He was rewarded with a pillow to his back.

"That's part of my charm, though," she retorted, putting her pillow back behind her head. "You'll spend the rest of your life trying to figure me out."

"Yes, but the purpose of my existence is to be a walking, talking mystery, remember?" He stood and tugged open his dress shirt, showing off the S-shield for emphasis.

"Oh, I know," she grinned, watching him become a blur to remove his suit then stop seconds later clothed in pajama bottoms. She watched him as he walked across the room to turn out the lights, then her eyes caught sight of what he'd been staring at earlier. "You were staring at our wedding photo?"

He blinked at her and flicked the switch, submerging the room in darkness save for the strands of light that filtered in on their bed. "Don't you?"

"All the time," she admitted, pulling back the sheets for him to climb in beside her. "It's sitting there right next to the door. You'd have to be blind to miss it. But you always look so… thoughtful."

"Well, it _is_ kind of a big deal, you know… being our wedding and all…"

"Yeah," she said, snuggling up to him once he drew her close. "I guess so."

"You_guess so_?" He pulled back slightly, catching sight of her small smile. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The small smile became a sly grin. "I'll tell you later."

His hearing just caught the rhythm of her heart speeding up. He dipped his head and brought his face close to hers. "Oh you will, will you?"

She kept her mouth shut, but the gleam in her eyes was getting brighter. He gently pushed her back against the mattress, lifting a hand to let his fingers drift along her sides. The gleam changed to pure surprise and she let out a small shriek of laughter. "No! You'll never get answers outta me that way!"

"It works with Jason – why not his mother?"

"Because his mother knows exactly what to do in order to make his father stop—hey!"

In her distraction, she hadn't taken notice that he had pinned her hands crossed against her chest. Laying beside her, Clark watched amused as she struggled against his hand, eventually resorting to flapping her elbows and hoping he'd let her go. When he refused, she huffed. "You know, this isn't exactly the nice way to get what you want. Aren't we trying to get Jason to learn that?"

"Of course. But I have an advantage that Jason doesn't." Then he leaned over and kissed her deeply, putting his heart and soul into the kiss, intending to tell her without words just how much she meant to him. She seemed to get a good idea – for a few moments she was completely speechless, allowing him to adore her with his gaze, smiling lazily up at him while her heart continued to beat faster. Then she sighed deeply.

"I'm still not telling you. I'm an impenetrable Fort Knox."

Smiling, he released her hands and reveled in her smile, the glowing light in her eyes, and the wondrous feeling of her hands traveling up his back. He bent over and brought his lips as close to hers as possible. "We'll see about that."

* * *

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